


blazing comet, cosmic frost

by demonladys



Series: Alchemical Love [2]
Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dysphoria, Established Relationship, F/F, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Identity, Misgendering, POV Alternating, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Transphobia, trans headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-10-25 07:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20720780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonladys/pseuds/demonladys
Summary: Nature was cruel to Ran and Moca -- two girls who yearned to become themselves. As their bodies keep changing in ways they both love and hate, the rift between them expands beneath their feet.





	1. Solar Flare

**Author's Note:**

> a fic about trans!ran and trans!moca, their own personal struggles and how that affects their relationship.
> 
> (comment moderation enabled to dissuade transphobes)  
((side note 12/21/2019: i've organized this into a series alongside my other trans bandori fics, but you don't need to read part 1 to read this.))

Like a falling meteor burned on collapse, Ran fled the scene, her combat boots clacking against cement with an intense fury. Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! She could feel steam pouring from her ears, her eyes glued tight into a scowl. She wasn’t crying. No, she wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. Not when the flame in her eyes dried any tears away in a heartbeat.

“Ran, you know I worry about you. If you’re serious about this whole being a girl thing, you should really act more like a proper young lady. Why not start with how you dress?”

Dad’s words echoed through her head -- they seemed to bounce off the sidewalk as she tried to escape. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Is she supposed to throw out all her jackets and jeans, replace them all with froufrou dresses and garish skirts? No way in hell. She was fuming at the idea, ready to burst into a fiery rage and tear down this whole damn city. She blazed onward and before she knew it, arrived at CiRCLE’s outdoor cafe.

The weight of her guitar case hit all at once and she nearly collapsed right there, breathless. Her pulse was roaring -- her heart almost broke out through her chest. Everything settled around her as a gentle breeze grazed her cheeks. She was out of the woods for now at least, and the irritable geyser in her heart went dormant once more.

Odd. Every seat was empty and the building’s interior was black as the night. A note hung from the glass door above the CLOSED sign, citing interior maintenance and contract issues. Dammit, just her luck. She paced back and forth in hopes someone else would show up and reveal it was a prank, but all that remained were tender winds and her reflection in the window glass. Her own image glimpsed back at her. Turtleneck beneath her leather jacket, torn jean-shorts, and tights. A far cry from a ‘proper young lady’ -- but what did it matter? She got the whole ensemble from the women’s section anyway, should she really have to prove herself any more than that? Her reflection blinked, silent. She held out her hands and stared. They were rough, enormous, and her shoulders were much too broad. Easily clockable, yuck. At least her sweater covered up the Adam’s apple, but she couldn’t do much about her voice, deeper than a trench beneath the sea. She groaned, and discomfort flowed through her body like a cloth drenched in water. Shit, maybe Dad was right.

The aura around her grew restless, her scowl tightened. Would she really look like a normal girl if she dressed any different? The red streak through her hair and her resting bitch face weren’t particularly ‘proper’ either, but she wouldn’t dream of parting with them. He probably thought it’d cause some domino effect, that changing her wardrobe would change her attitude. Doubtful -- that witch Minato dressed like a well-mannered maiden, and her personality was anything but polite. And as for her body, there was no fixing that. She was just… stuck like this.

Before those thoughts could build up steam, familiar fingers blocked her vision. “Raaan, guess who~?” Moca’s playfully cocky tone was unmistakable, like a blizzard’s endless winds. Dangerous, yet somehow comforting.

“Kasumi, right?”

“Bzzzt, wrong again!” Her voice shifted into whining, on the verge of spitting out crocodile tears with each syllable. “Come on, babe! How could you forget your adorable and precious Miss Moca?”

Envy boiled in Ran’s heart. Moca’s vocal range was incredible, like some kind of nightmare creature capable of reaching inhuman pitches. The two of them were alike, born without the knowledge of who -- or what -- they really were. Dysphoria was an unwinnable lottery, but that girl seemed to hit the jackpot: soft hands and slender fingers, shoulders narrow enough to be a non-issue, and a voice befitting of the awful goblin she was.

“Anyway,” Moca lifted her fingers from Ran’s eyes and spun around ‘til she was in front of her, hair rumpled beneath her sky-blue hood. “Practice is cancelled, obviously. You should really check your texts more. Everyone’s waiting at the mall.”

As always, she ignored the suggestion and sighed. Then she threw her arm back and slapped her guitar case. “Can we stop by your house to drop this off?”

Moca tilted her head curiously, but her lips remained shut. She must’ve figured why. Wouldn’t have been the first time. “Kaaay. Wanna hold hands today?”

Ran stared at the coarse skin on the back of her fingers. Eugh, it felt like paint peeling off wood. “I’d rather not.”

Moca instead tangled her arms around Ran’s elbow, her hands clenched the leather of her sleeve. She made another stupid voice, this time a nearly a Himari imitation. “How about I play clingy girlfriend today~?”

“Fine, do what you want.” Ran felt her jaw loosen and her head clear up, refreshed as they started off toward the Aoba household. Moca tugged on her jacket and rubbed her face against the leather, making kissy noises and brazen glances the whole way there.

Honestly, Ran barely remembered how they ended up like this. They were best friends as kids, then became boyfriends as they entered adolescence. It just made sense for them to date, she couldn’t explain why. A couple years down the line and not much has changed. Well, aside from them both being girls now. Same as always, just how Ran liked it. Moca was the laid-back prankster and Ran was the feisty powerhouse -- cool and confident, fueled by a blazing passion like a comet in her heart. With Moca at her side, she could unleash that passion full-force up on the stage. She felt invincible when they were together. That was love, right?

* * *

The shopping mall’s entrance was topped by a tall archway of pale white brick and tiled windows filling the frame. Himari whined about how she was getting soooo bored waiting for them, but quickly shut up when Tomoe’s fingers rummaged through her hair. “Sorry we’re late,” Ran said politely.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it!” Tsugumi smiled without a hint of malice. She was such a sweetheart, always so forgiving, always putting up with Ran’s attitude and Moca’s antics without complaint. And though Ran knew she was too humble to admit it, Tsugu was the strongest out of all of them -- always the girl to make things happen, always the one to go the extra mile.

Together they wandered around the mall for a couple hours, grabbing burgers and sodas between aimless visits to assorted shops. Somehow they ended up in clothing store, probably Himari’s idea, and Ran couldn’t shake the itch from her dad’s backhanded ‘support’ while skimming through all the girly and vibrant dresses and blouses. God, she was really hoping it’d be gone by now, but it stuck to her like a housefly’s incessant buzzing in the late-summer. Somehow, it bit right through her skin and led her confidence to waver. She wanted so hard to believe he was full of shit, but if so, why was it impossible to ignore? She grabbed a striped pink-and-white dress with frills down the sleeves, pleats beneath the skirt, and crammed herself into a fitting room stall before Moca or anyone else could see the shame on her face.

She stuffed the dress over her torso aggressively, wrinkling it while jamming her head through the collar. And when she looked in the mirror, the annoyance on her face was blatant: brows furrowed and an unmoving, dour frown stapled on her lips. The soft colors and ornate design was such a stark contrast between her red-streak and punk-black hair alongside her favorite pair of combat boots. It felt stuffy around her neck and worse, exposed her Adam’s apple to the light of day. Not to mention, it was too dainty, too serene and subdued -- like a muzzle keeping her from shouting to the heavens, chaining her down to earth.

She opened the stall door, greeted by four gazes of shock. “W-what do you think?” The others were speechless. Moca’s mouth was covered by both hands, and even then her snickers snuck through. They all stood in awkward silence for about half a minute as Ran’s brain went haywire. _ “Oh god, I must look so stupid right now. Why did I listen to him? Why did I let him talk me into this? Shit, shit, shit.” _

Tomoe broke the silence. “It’s, uh... different?” The insincerity in her eyes was plain as could be. Poor Tomoe. Always so cool, so driven and so considerate. Yet the hesitance in her voice leaked through and Ran couldn’t help but feel it like a needle in her arm.

“Well…” Himari spoke. “It’s unexpected, but if that’s what you wanna wear, I’m sure you can make it work!”

Ran’s lips shriveled and shrunk, her cheeks about to burst. She was blushing like mad and couldn’t even tell if it was from flattery or humiliation. She envisioned her dad in the background, nodding in approval with a stern smile. Just say it’s stupid, dammit. Just let it end before she walks out of the store like this. She hated it, she utterly hated it. But the voice in her head told her this was the only answer to those gnawing thoughts.

“Yeah! I support you all the way, Ran!” Not you too, Tsugu. That was the hard part of having such accepting and benevolent friends: they never told you if they thought you were ugly, if they knew your voice didn’t cut it, if they could tell you looked way too much like a guy to call yourself a girl. Even her troublesome girlfriend, who had dropped the subdued laughter for an unsettling silence, was too kind to insult her. Even when insult was what she needed most right now.

Back in her normal clothes, she begrudgingly took the dress through check-out. She bit her tongue as the cashier rang her up, trying so desperately to not show just how ungrateful she was. Totally not worth the price tag, totally not for her. But as the clerk scanned the tag, she handed over the money, her only thought about how much she wanted to be done with this.

* * *

Days passed, and despite her father’s apparent approval of her new look, she only grew more uncomfortable beneath the dress’ collar. Himari had picked out a new pair of brown loafers to match, and Tsugumi lent her a white hair-band to complete the ensemble. It was awful, suffocating. Maybe lively girls like Aya or Kokoro could pull it off, but that gloomy expression she always wore made her nothing more than a sorrowful spectre in the wind, her blazing spirit completely diffused.

She forced herself to wear it, even to the studio for practice. Anything to keep her dad’s disappointed gaze from staining her memory. But through every song, her voice cracked nonstop and her volume was so low that the smooth vibrations of Himari’s bass strings drowned her singing out. And her arms, stiff, barely let her fingers move around the guitar. She felt sick, like she could collapse at a moment’s notice, yet the symptoms were invisible.

Moca was the first to catch. “Ran, step it up. I can barely hear you,” she ordered.

“Trying,” Ran stammered. Her father’s words came back even as the agony of wearing this uncomfortable, unfitting garment seeped through. Shut up, shut up! She wanted to shout with all her heart, but her flame waned as if doused by frigid waters of the arctic.

“What’s the deal? You aren’t playing like you normally do,” Tomoe commented.

She was right. This wasn’t her, this wasn’t Ran Mitake. This wasn’t the ‘same as always’ punk girl with the pride to carry herself forward. The flicker in her chest started to spark, her frustrations flooding in. Agitated, she roared aloud, “I said I’m fucking trying!” 

The whole studio flinched, stunned. She clutched the side of the skirt and pulled it between her fingers. Tear it. Tear it away. But even as she tugged, it wouldn’t unravel. Left with no other choice, she stormed out like a hurricane. All her drive was back, if only for a moment -- better not waste it, she thought.

She sprinted down the hall, launched herself toward the (thankfully empty) basement stage below, and pushed her way into the familiar, sleek white dressing room. The only one inside was Marina, the hard-working staff lady who seemed to always look out for her and the rest of Afterglow. She noticed Ran’s crude entrance in an instant, welcoming her with a warm smile. “Hey Ran! What’s up?”

She barely took a second to catch her breath before demanding, “Is my stage outfit still here?”

Marina stepped back to the closet in the corner of the room and dug through for a minute. Ran’s pulse wouldn’t calm down -- she was walking a narrow tightrope and could feel herself falling without a cushion to catch her. “Found it!” From the closet, Marina pulled out Ran’s shoulderless black shirt, its signature lightning bolt striking relief in her heart. Her crimson tank top and jean shorts were there, too, along with a pair of red boots she had gotten a few years back. Just staring at it, she could feel the light in her return. It was probably bad form to leave her stuff here all the time, but it wasn’t worth the trouble of carrying the outfit around everywhere when she knew there’d be a concert soon.

Marina handed the outfit over, and within seconds Ran had tossed the flimsy striped dress aside. She threw her shirt over her arms and the oversized collar stretched out below her neck. She fastened her choker around her neck, adorned with a tiny lock -- the perfect cover for her Adam’s apple. With boots tied a minute later, she stomped on the dainty dress and left it to rot. Or for Marina to give it away to someone, whichever came first.

The rebellious inferno surged through every bone in her body all at once, as if she’d become whole again. As she turned to the mirror, her reflection smirked back, and the thunder in her mind drowned out any echoes of her dad’s inane remarks. No matter how broad her shoulders or how rugged her hands, she couldn’t betray her true self. Because she didn’t want to be just anyone, just any girl. She had to be Ran Mitake, same as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! after the positive reception from my trans!sayo fic i've been really in the mood to keep writing transdori content. with this i wanted to explore different ideas/experiences that i didn't really have the chance to touch upon previously, so hopefully it'll be interesting and not too repetitive. this first chapter was ran's POV, but i'll be alternating between ran and moca POV throughout. enjoy! ⚧


	2. Nebula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Lisa's help, Moca tries to survive a boring day at work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moca POV this time. still trans!ran and trans!moca.

It was impossible to shake the feeling that Moca was being watched from afar. Even though Lisa was the only other girl in the convenience store’s restroom, the seconds between flushing the toilet and exiting the stall were like rushing into a minefield. Shivers ran through her legs, following her across the wet tiled floor. A stranger’s glance could kill at any moment -- that’s just how it was for her. Keep your head down and hide yourself as much as you can; a survival strategy ingrained deep into her heart over the years. 

“You okay?” Lisa cupped her hand around mouth like she was whispering into Moca’s ear.

Now at the sink, Moca nodded hastily, trying not to let nerves show on her face. Speaking, too, was a death sentence. The tiniest squeak could be fatal if some vigilante notices anything off. She was lucky at least. Sympathetic girls like Lisa and Tsugumi were sweet enough to watch her back at times like this. Pitiful. As she turned the faucet handle, she glimpsed her own shame in the mirror, gloomy eyes and quivering lips. Pathetic. Get it together. You’re supposed to be the adorable and charming Miss Moca. Fear was only natural, but that didn’t stop the scalding in her heart while hot water poured between her fingers.

Thankfully she escaped before those unwelcome thoughts could turn up the heat, adjusting her collar on her way out the door. Okay, deep breaths. Deep breaths. Phew. Time to put the mask back on. “Did you see the ghost of Hanako in there?”

“Haha, we’re not even at school!”

“There’s an evil spirit lurking every bathroom, though. How else do you explain all those times there was a mysterious kick at my stall~?” As she joked, a voice in the back of her mind recalled the reality of those moments. The absolute terror of another girl -- hell, sometimes even an adult, trying their hardest to hurt you for what felt like no reason. Maybe it was easier to believe in ill-willed supernatural forces, because how awful would it be if humans were capable of such malice? 

“Ah...” Lisa was a sweetheart, for real. Not many girls were as kind and understanding as her about this kind of thing. There wasn’t a hint of malice in her heart, no sign of ulterior motives -- she was the last person Moca would expect to blackmail her over it (and god you wouldn’t believe how much of a blessing that was). Ever since Moca came out, Lisa had been nothing but supportive. She must’ve had some special kind of miracle empathy, like an angel fell from heaven and took the form of a lesbian with the face of a feline.

“Anyway, thanks for keeping the toilet monsters at bay for me again.”

“Oh! Anytime, don’t worry about it!”

_ Hide yourself as much as you can.  _ Moca repeated that mantra to herself every night before bed, praying that someday she’d reawaken as the ‘real her’. But it could never be that easy. She hated hiding herself all the time like this. She wanted to live free and easy like gentle snowfall in the early winter. To be the adorable young lady she always claimed to be. It seemed like nothing but a far-off dream buried beneath unbreakable ice.

Behind the cash register, Moca’s eyes felt sleepier as the clock ticked onward. Work was passing by so slow. Hardly any customers around meant it was dreadfully dull and nothing could distract her from the soreness in her feet. Can’t expect much traffic on a school day, but she was begging for someone interesting to show up and kill her boredom. She glanced to Lisa, desperate to pass the time. “Lisa, have you been taking good care of your girl~?”

“H-hey, don’t call her that!” a bashful Lisa stammered.

“Fufu, someone’s embarrassed. We really are alike, huh~? We’ve even got the same type when it comes to girls.”

“And that is?”

“Scary unapproachable girls, of course.”

Lisa giggled, her face red while she tried to shake her head. “You might be right, aha… But Yukina’s got a good heart, and so does Ran. It’s funny how we get to see that side of them. Lots of people think they’re intimidating, but we know that’s not true.”

Of course, it wasn’t the scary part that drew her to Ran, as hot as that was. No, her beautiful blazing comet was so much more than a harsh gaze and a killer figure. In front of a crowd, she was a typhoon, with strength to bend the world to her will with those gorgeous lyrics and her booming voice. But off-stage, she was a guiding light in the blackest night, an unwavering flame like the northern star. And Moca followed that flame no matter where it went, hoping to someday grasp it for herself again.

Right on cue, the front door chime rang out and the immaculate red-streak beauty herself strolled inside the store. Her cool aura was in full force, the dormant volcano of her passion hidden beneath that aloof demeanor. Even in her school uniform, she was a total badass. Moca could feel her heart sing like wind in a snowstorm. “Hey babe~,” she called out.

Ran turned to the register. “Hey Moca. Lisa,” she nodded, then proceeded into an aisle.

“She seems kinda different,” Lisa mumbled behind the register.

“Oh, haven’t you heard? Ran is evolving.” That whole dress incident a few weeks back gave everyone a big scare, but ever since then Ran seemed even more alive than usual. It was their second year of high school, and she really was growing into an amazing young woman. Moca couldn’t help but envy that. Always following in her footsteps, she could never catch up. But it was fine, she told herself. As long as Ran was there to lead the way, she didn’t mind staying in her shadow. 

“Evolving how?”

“Trying new things, experimenting, finding herself. Typical girl stuff, you know how it is.” Ran was really an inspiration, Moca thought. But she was always moving so fast, smashing through all the barriers that Moca couldn’t so much as touch on her own.  _ “She’s changing in ways I can’t.” _ Someday she might run too far ahead, and they might lose sight of each other. What would be left for Moca then?

Eventually Ran returned to the counter with her a bag of beef jerky. While the rockstar fumbled through her wallet, Moca was busy coming up with the perfect joke to piss her girlfriend off. “Will that be all for you, ma’am?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Another cool, aloof response, same as usual. Good, this will be easy, Moca thought.

“You sure you don’t want some of this?” With a smug grin, she pulled a small candy sack out and slid it across the counter. “I’ll even give you a discount.”

Ran’s eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised. “Fine, I’ll bite. What’s inside?”

“Estrogen, of course~.”

Within a moment Ran threw her head back and groaned. Lisa desperately covered her mouth with both hands, even then letting her concealed snorts slip through. Double score for Miss Moca~!

* * *

The sun had set by the time their shift ended, and the stars peeked through the fading dusk horizon. She wore her gray hoodie, cozy sleeves enveloped her arms and wrists in the cool spring evening. Sometimes hiding was nice, but she wished to venture beyond. Into the distant cosmos where everything was comfortably frigid, just how she liked it.

A curious Lisa wandered out of the store, comparatively more well-dressed than Moca even in her school uniform. “Moca, are you okay?”

“Feeling Mocatastic right now, why~?”

“You had a sad look in your eyes earlier. When Ran stopped by.”

“Did I? Weeeird.” Shit, was she slipping up? Lisa’s just too good at this.

“C’mon, Moca. You know you can trust me if something’s bothering you.” Lisa’s eyes held a stern sympathy.

Of course, something had been bothering her for a while, especially as of late. It was too much to tell anyone, even Lisa. She wanted to believe she was fine with just living in Ran’s shadow, but that was a blatant lie. There were always those jealous glances, those whispers of resentment that pried away at her skin. It hurt, it really hurt. Just because her shoulders were naturally a bit smaller and her hands naturally a bit softer, did that mean her suffering and insecurity weren’t real? That she had no right to hate her destitute chest and the hair threatening to grow from her chin? Maybe that’s not how it was at all, but paranoia got the best of her. If Ran ever said it outright, she was sure she’d shatter in an instant.

She had no desire to get into all that this evening, so instead she leaned her back against the store’s outside wall, her eyes fixated on the encroaching night sky. “Lisa, you’re my ally, right?”

“Yeah, I told you before that I support you no matter what.”

“Fufu, you’d watch my back on the battlefield~?” She dug into her bag and rummaged through the mess of an interior, feeling for a small metallic object in the shape of a heart. It took about half a minute to actually find the damn thing, but hey, not everyone can be a master organizer like Tsugu. She opened her palm to Lisa, revealing a heart-shaped pin striped in pastel blue, soft pink, and pure white in the middle. “Then take this.” Moca had an impossible time being honest with her feelings. Emotions were hard, sincerity was even harder. So every compliment had to be masked in three layers of snark and irony. But she really was grateful, and hoped this small token could express that better than any salt-coated words.

She watched for a reaction as Lisa leaned in closer. Took a few seconds before she exclaimed, “Oh, it’s the flag! Um, is it okay if I put it on my bag?”

“Hehe, that’s a silly question. I’m giving it to you after all.”

“I know, but you know. Since I’m not, err...“ Her dodgy attempts to spit out the words were awkward in the most loving way possible. Oh Lisa, never change. “But, uh, thanks! It’s an honor. I’ll treasure it forever, comrade~!”

Lisa lifted it out of Moca’s grasp with light in her eyes, her benevolent smile shining in the night. With her other hand, she ruffled Moca’s hair with the gentlest of touches, like winter’s first snowfall. The world was scary sometimes, but knowing there were still people out there like Lisa and the others -- unapologetically supportive, without question -- gave her the smallest sliver of hope. Maybe, when all is said and done, she could become the girl she wanted. As long as she has Ran’s light to guide her, the possibility would always be right ahead of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lately i've been reading "kanojo ni naritai kimi to boku". it's a nice little manga about some trans/gender questioning kids trying to figure out messy feelings. give it a shot if that sounds interesting to you.


	3. Supernova

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ran takes a trip down memory lane -- toward the turning point between false and true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ran POV, still trans!ran and trans!moca of course.
> 
> CW: misgendering. just to be upfront, there is an extensive flashback in which two trans girl characters, at the time having yet to come to terms with gender identity, are referred to in prose with he/him pronouns. just want to leave that warning ahead of time.
> 
> i am trans myself, but i'm not infallible and i'm aware this can make it hard to read. my aim with these stories is to be honest and real enough that i won't shy away from uncomfortable stuff if it'll resonate with others. but no matter what, i don't want my writing to leave trans readers feeling hurt or unsafe. we get enough of that shit in our daily lives and i'd much rather use this to help if i can. see end notes for my thought process behind it.

Her legs sprawled out across her bedsheets, back against a pillow, and ears drowned deep into the guitar riff playing through her headphones, Ran carefully turned the pages of her photo album. Her eyes tried to dodge all the shots of herself as confused child, though some were admittedly kind of cute -- she never really knew how to fit in and never really cared, so she wore skirts even back then (despite her dad’s disapproval). Other grown-ups seemed to find that amusing, which she now realized really meant “Oh how cute, he hasn’t grown out of that phase yet.” Dishonest jerks. Moca was in a lot of them too, still wearing those tiny pigtails from before her mom had made her cut them off for middle school.

...Ah. Eventually she turned to a picture from the first day of middle school. Outside of Hazawa cafe, three vibrant girls in their Haneoka Junior High uniforms stood around two boys, dreadfully dull in their black button-up jackets and mandatory dress pants. You could sense the life in Himari’s winking and the boyish Tomoe’s confident grin, not to mention Tsugumi’s timid demeanor with her fingers clasped together. But the boy with a short ivory shag stared into the frame with lifeless eyes, his dark-haired counterpart barely scowling -- essentially expressionless. He seemed almost… haunted, his face showing only the complete desire to not exist.

Her finger grazed over her younger self’s dead gaze. _ “This really takes me back,” _she thought to herself. Back to a miserable time, when her soul and body were merged into a grotesque husk of anger and sorrow.

* * *

A young Ran’s first day at Nanashi Boys’ Academy. There was almost something cool about the vibe Moca gave with his hands in his pockets and his eyelids barely half-open, but his discontented frown made it more unsettling than anything.

“It’s gonna be lonely without the others,” Ran murmured as he followed his boyfriend along the sidewalk toward the school.

“Yeah.” He was half-expecting some flirty remark about how now they had more alone time, but got nothing. Jeez. Even this very first morning walk seemed empty, unfulfilling without the girls’ warmth and smiles surrounding them. Blue skies above meant nothing, failing to conceal the dreary mood beneath the clouds.

They arrived at the gate and awkwardly strolled inside, the scent of dread and puberty filled the school’s hallway. Ran’s uniform felt stuffy, constricting, its heat unbearable rather than comforting. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about being surrounded exclusively by other guys rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe he was just too used to Tsugu’s comforting presence and Himari’s cluelessly charming attitude. At least Moca was still around. Not a girl, but he didn’t act like other guys -- he never cared much one way or the other what Ran wore or how he acted. He was chill like a frost-fogged window late in the winter. An oddball for sure, with a strange sense of humor, but he didn’t mind. After all, Moca was the only other guy who seemed to get him.

The entrance ceremony passed by and he soon found himself in a seat behind Moca near the back of the 1-A classroom. It had an old-timey feel to it, all the floors and desks made of either wood or false wood. Sunlight seeped through the window and half-blinded his closest eye. “Mitake?” the teacher called for him to introduce himself.

“Nice to meet you all. Just call me Ran,” he insisted before falling back into his seat. ‘Ran’ and ‘Moca’. Those started out as nicknames Tomoe had given them at first, but they stuck. Over time neither of them really went by anything else, to the point where Ran felt a strange pain in his ears whenever he heard his birth name. Ran Mitake just had a nice ring to it, he thought. Don’t read into it too much.

The day went on and he squirmed around in his chair every couple minutes. His neck seemed to be burning up beneath his collar, ugh, and he caught himself gazing out the window multiple times, luckily before the teacher noticed. During breaks, Moca would lean back in his chair and address Ran with his head upside-down.

“Middle school means we gotta join a club, huh?”

“Tch. Not interested,” he snapped. Last thing Ran needed was a bunch of guys with vaguely similar interests trying to get involved in his personal life and taking up all his time. He’d already formed a daily plan, anyway: survive ‘til classes were over and head straight to Hazawa cafe.

“C’mon, don’t be so shy~. Isn’t there anything you’re interested in?”

“If I had to pick, I guess I’d go with a literature club.”

“Ohoho. I was certain you’d pick a flower-arranging club.”

Ran shut his eyes, crossed his arms, and groaned. “Please, I get enough of that at home. I don’t need dad getting invested in my school life. What about you?”

Moca’s pupils jolted around in place like a whirlpool, searching all over the classroom. “I’ll probably just go wherever you do.”

“Going home club it is.”

“Aww. What about the drama club?” He cupped his mouth and leaned in, whispering, “Maybe they’ll let us wear dresses.”

Ran’s eyelids twitched, his muscles tensed up. “No way in hell. Not if they’re gonna make us get up on stage in front of everyone like that.”

“And your dad would be pissed, right?”

He sighed, “...He said I was getting too old for it. That I need to grow up and ‘be a man’.” Echoes of his dad’s supposed ‘wisdom’ came to mind. How it was important it was for him to grow into a respected young man, and how the only future he’d find as a crossdresser would be as a waitress in Akihabara. Maybe he was right -- maybe it was time to grow up, but why did that idea hurt his heart so much?

“Yeah, mama said something along those lines. I think she's just worried about me.”

Moca probably would’ve been a great fit for cosplay waitress, actually. He had a pretty face and seemingly not an ounce of shame in his body. For a split-second, blood rushed to Ran’s cheeks as he imagined his boyfriend serving extravagant desserts while wearing an adorable, frilly maid costume and cat-ears. Too cute! He shook his head and tried to totally ignore wherever that fantasy was going. He was still getting used to all the bizarre desires and that came with his growing body.

After school, Ran and Moca met up with the girls at Hazawa cafe. Finally somewhere that felt safe. The girls all wore purple pleated skirts and striped neckties beneath their dark dress jackets, which gave them an almost professional look for their age. Himari was bawling her eyes out about how much she missed them, though Tomoe and Tsugu tried their best to calm her down as Ran blankly stared at the mess from across the table. He couldn’t say it aloud, but he knew the feeling was mutual.

“So, what’s it like at Nanashi?” Tsugu asked the duo.

“Unpleasant, but nothing special.” Ran didn’t bother returning the question. Most guys seemed to assume girls’ schools were dens of nail polish and perfume, but that was an absurd fantasy made up by smelly kids who had never worn makeup. No doubt, Haneoka Girls’ Junior High School was probably nothing special itself. Nanashi Boys’ Academy just came with the frustrating bonus of being inhabited by boys.

Once Himari’s weeping settled, she joined the conversation with stars in her eyes. “You two look so handsome in your uniforms!”

Moca’s head turned toward Tomoe. “Fufu, not as handsome as a certain someone.”

“H-hey!” Tomoe complained, jumping back in her seat. He was right though, Tomoe probably would’ve been more suited for the boys’ uniform than either of them. She had a heart of flame and a smile of fresh ice. Her short haircut really helped exude a kind of punk aura and he had no clue why he envied her so much. Was that normal?

Totally ignoring their exchange, Himari whined and pouted with her arms stretched out, “Maaan, it’s so unfair that my only two guy friends are gay! I’d make either of you my boyfriend in a heartbeat otherwise.”

Moca snickered, seemingly amused by her backhanded compliment. Ran wasn’t so pleased, though. First off, that sort of thing wasn’t for her to decide and why the hell did she have to say it like she resented them for it? Second, he worried for her. She was the impulsive type, always the one who ordered desserts based on their picture alone. He didn’t want her rushing into anything hastily, especially not a middle school romance that could easily end in heartache. And third… well, it was unexplainable, but something about being called ‘handsome’ didn’t sit right with him.

“Himari, don’t say that!” Tsugu to the rescue, she stood with her palms slammed against the table, her seat tipping slightly backwards in the process. She gave Himari a short but stern gaze, then sighed and turned toward the boys, sorrow in her eyes. “Sorry, she doesn’t mean it like that. You know we’re your friends no matter what.”

Tsugu’s words were refreshing after a long and disheartening day stuck in a tight uniform surrounded by obnoxious boys. Even as they were split apart by schools, the five friends had an unbreakable bond. Though misunderstandings and drama were inevitable along the way, it was something each of them was willing to protect.

* * *

Two months in and Ran wasn’t getting any more used to his environment. His body was changing for the worse, his voice dropped further and constantly cracked whenever he spoke. His forehead sweat all the time and he felt even more uncomfortable in his uniform by the day -- even the freer summer uniform, consisting of a vest over a short-sleeve dress shirt, left him mysteriously itchy all over. Maybe it was just a part of growing up, but he swore there was something wrong with him. Like he was an alien trapped inside human flesh, growing more deeply imprisoned with each passing night.

Bathed in the dusk sun, he floated back and forth atop the swing with a hooded Moca at his side, next swing over. This playground was a special place, maybe one of the few safe havens that remained. Hazawa cafe grew emptier as the girls became enthralled in club activities and such. They kept in touch, of course, still spending time together on free evenings and weekends. But their old home away from home became an unnerving reminder of the gap separating Ran and Moca from the Haneoka girls.

“My face isn’t cute anymore. There's tiny hairs growing from it and I keep cutting myself trying to shave them off.” Moca spoke with a pained longing in his voice, flashing the band-aid across his chin. “I miss being cute.”

“I still love you,” Ran assured.

He shook his head, solemn. “It’s not that. I want to be cute for myself.”

Though it was a different notion, the feeling was adjacent. Everything in Ran’s body seemed to be fighting against whatever it was he really wanted, and middle school was a breeding ground for all the worst variants of stress and angst on top of everything else. School life and social life were a constant drain preventing any freedom from the hell inside his head. “Growing up fucking sucks.”

“You can say that again~.”

The air fell silent between them as the setting sun descended behind distant trees and houses, summer’s heat lightened with the vanishing star. It was going to be past curfew soon, but whatever. “Moca, can I stay at your place tonight?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Moca’s voice trailed off suddenly as he launched himself backwards on the swing and returned forward with his shoes reached out, a pendulum in the fading light. “I hate that we have to change in front of each other for phys-ed. The guys in our class smell terrible, then go around talking about how girls are lining up to date them. And I hate being so exposed in front of them. It feels indecent, shameful. I don’t want them looking at me.”

Ran cleared his throat, hoping that’d change the pitch if he tried it enough times. “I don’t like speaking in front of everyone. It hurts like hell and I sound like a man now.”

“You don’t want to be a man?”

He stared down at his palms, as if noticing blood on his hands. Blood drawn by the question like a needle in his arm. What the hell was he even saying, and what was this guilt settling in over his heart? “I’m not sure.”

“Hmm,” Moca peaked his head in from around the swing’s chain. “Oh, I know. If you could be any of our lady friends, who would you pick?”

As bizarre a question as it was, Ran’s mind blinked over any implications and spat out an answer right away. “Tomoe.”

“Ohh~?”

“She’s cool and brave and doesn’t really care what others think of her. Sometimes I really do wish I could be more like her.” The couple watched their friends grow from afar, an asterism across the uncrossable void. And everytime Ran met eyes with Tomoe, he could feel his heart waver ever so slightly, as if making a subtle wish. Not a wish of love, but some other kind of yearning. Yearning which never seemed to go away no matter how hard he tried to move past it. _ “If I could be her…” _ he thought. He flailed around and pulled on his hair in hopes of vanquishing creepy ideas like that. This wasn’t normal, he was certain. The only explanation was that he truly was an anomaly.

“Fufufu, good reason. I’d pick Tsugu. She’s so honest and so sweet, maybe too much for her own good. But I suck at being honest and sweet, so I’ve got no room to judge.”

Nefarious thoughts plagued Ran’s mind as the sky turned black and the sight of his boyfriend had become nothing more than an outline in the night. _ “Who the fuck even am I?” _ Pain-in-the-ass questions like that had no easy answer, but stung too hard for him to ignore. But he knew he’d get nowhere on his own.

* * *

"If there’s no easy answer, then why not take it step-by-step?" That was Tsugu’s advice when they had the chance to talk things out the following afternoon. So Ran wrote one question down in a notebook every morning, a question to think long and hard about until the day’s end. And with every answer came a new question, rinse and repeat. For Ran, this was more important than anything else -- than studying for exams, or doing all the daily homework, and certainly more important than actually paying attention in class. Within two weeks, the page was full of scribbles and markings mixed in with every step of the process.

_ Day 1: Who the fuck even am I? Answer: Unsure. _

_ Day 2: Do I want to be a man? Answer: Hell no. _

_ Day 3: What else is there? Answer: Women, and Google says there’s also something called ‘X’. _

_ Day 4: What is ‘X’? Answer: Apparently it means you have no gender. _

_ Day 5: What do I want to be? Answer: How the hell should I know? _

_ Day 6: Do I want to be ‘X’? Answer: Not really, I sorta get it but it doesn’t seem like me. _

_ Day 7: Do I want to be a girl? Answer: I don’t know. _

_ Day 8: But what if I was a girl? Answer: I’d probably be a lot happier. _

_ Day 9: Why would I be happier as a girl? Answer: I wouldn’t end up being a man. Can wear whatever I want and be cool like Tomoe, cute like Tsugu, or pretty like Himari. More pleasant voice. Boobs? _

_ Day 10: Should I become a girl? Answer: Maybe. _

_ Day 11: What would dad say if I became a girl? Answer: Who cares. _

_ Day 12: What would my friends say if I became a girl? Answer: Tsugu promised we’re friends no matter what. It will be okay. _

_ Day 13: What would Moca say if I became a girl? Answer: I hope he’d still love me. _

_ Day 14: Who the fuck even am I? Answer: _ _ <s>A boy who wants to be a girl.</s> _ _ I’m a girl. _

On that fourteenth evening, the haze in her head began to clear. With the map to her answer locked safely inside her private journal buried beneath her bed, Ran rushed out the door before her dad had a chance to scold her for going out this late. [Moca, come to the park. There’s something I need to talk about,] read the text she left before sprinting away.

She shined her phone’s flashlight across the playground, illuminating monkey bars and slides. No sign of her boyfriend though. She stepped in closer and peeked around the corner, double-checking to make sure he wasn’t hiding under the playset’s bridge. And there he was. His ivory hair sparkled in the night’s shade, he looked back with innocent eyes. No, wait. Were those teardrops on his cheek?

“Moca?”

“I’m here,” he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and sniffled quietly. What the hell happened here?

“I… Um, I had a question.” She clammed up, her fingers shook and nerves started to block the words as they wormed their way out.

“Me too, actually.”

“O-oh?”

“You go first.”

Her pulse grew rapid, phlegm filled her throat. She looked to the moon for solace, for an easy escape, but no -- the answer could only be here and now. She clenched her fist, her muscles tightened and the courage came through. “W-would you still love me if I became a girl?”

“Hah… Hahaha…” Pained laughter and more tears were the only response.

Oh god, did she fuck everything up? She didn’t want this, not if it was going to hurt the one she loved. _ “I’m sorry, forget I said anything,” _she wanted to shout, but she was sent into a fit of coughing before she could speak.

Moca leapt out from under the bridge, arms flinging around Ran’s shoulders. Immediately, her cough stopped. Moca’s face was buried into Ran’s neck and she could feel her best friend’s heartbeat in tandem with her own. Muffled sobs poured out, along with an uncontrollable-yet-weak titter. “That was my question too.”

She slid her arms onto Moca’s back as she tried to hold in her own joyful tears. She truly was happy for her. They must’ve looked so stupid right now -- two teenage girls crying late at night next to the jungle gym they played on as kids. Neither of them had to say it, they just knew from their synchronized pulse: the answer could only be “Of course.”

Ran wiped her face against Moca’s jacket sleeve and clinged onto her girlfriend’s arm. Moca meanwhile used her free arm to clean her own cheeks. Their eyes met, and they both giggled. Haha, Moca probably didn’t even realize how ridiculous the smile glued to her face looked. She leaned in and whispered faintly, “Ran.”

“Hey.”

“I want to have my first kiss tonight.”

Ran’s giggling got even harder to hold back. “We’ve kissed a hundred times before, idiot.”

“But this will be our first kiss as girls~!”

Their pulses in tandem once more, Ran and Moca’s lips merged in the shadow. They were a little rough, chapped, but that didn’t detract from the sweet taste of understanding between them. Their silhouettes joined together beneath the faded moonlight, she imagined a beauty in that image if viewed from afar. If this feeling in her chest -- in both of their chests, she was sure -- wasn’t love, then there was no love in this world.

* * *

The young girls were a few days off from starting at Haneoka Junior High School, and Moca was so elated she was practically skipping across the sidewalk. Ran felt a familiar comfort as her skirt grazed each of her bare legs. This uniform was punk, for sure. Pants were great too, but it had to be punk. None of that proper conformity bullshit, don’t you dare make her wear a shitty boys’ uniform to school ever again.

“That lady from yesterday sure asked a lot of questions.”

Ran recalled the uncomfortable situation she and her girlfriend ended up at the fitting for their new uniforms. She seemed SO suspicious of them, constantly asking what they were doing there and touching their shoulders with uneasy force. _ “Jeez, we aren’t spies if that’s what you’re trying to get out of us,” _she really wanted to bark out. No, of course she knew the real reason for the demeaning stares and bitter remarks. Being an outcast -- a monster in the eyes of some -- just took time to get used to is all.

“Think Himari will be disappointed~?”

“Guess she’s back down to zero guy friends.” Ran couldn’t keep her snickers hidden. Of course, this was in no way payback for their clueless friend’s past insensitivity, there was no ill-will at all. That might be just a bit too flimsy to justify a life like this. But wasn’t there something hilarious about it in retrospect?

Ran took a deep breath outside Hazawa cafe and peeked through the window, Moca’s fingers clutched tight onto her own. Thank god for Moca’s mom, who had a few questions but was otherwise nothing but helpful to both girls. Hell, if it weren’t for Ms. Aoba besting Ran’s dad in a screaming contest, she might not have gotten the necessary support to transfer alongside her girlfriend. Dad was a stubborn ass, but he was at least the type of guy who could eventually concede that he might not always know what’s best for his daughter. Eventually. Ran glanced back, looking for the courage in Moca’s gaze as her heartbeat grew unsteady. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be~.”

She yanked the door open and pulled Moca inside as the chimes above rang out. Tomoe sat right across from the entrance, Tsugumi and Himari beside her. Her jaw dropped, and Himari’s soon followed. Tsugumi's face lit up, she seemed wholly unsurprised as she leapt around the table and tossed herself around the couple's shoulders. "You two...! I'm so happy for you!"

They both hugged back, and Ran tried her hardest to imitate Tomoe's cool demeanor when she spoke. "I couldn't have done it without you, Tsugu."

Tsugu pulled away and flailed her arms about, her face suddenly bright red. "I-I didn't do anything special, I just tried my best to help. I didn’t know if my advice was even any good." Always so modest, so sincere. She really was a treasure.

"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on right now?" Tomoe interrupted. Her tone was demanding, but not quite hostile. More lost than anything. “What’s with the outfits, guys?”

Ran walked forward and crossed her arms, a confident grin took form. “We’re transferring to your school.”

Himari fumbled about, stuttering over every word. “H-huh? B-but, aren’t y-you...?” You could just see her eyes spinning around and spiraling out of control like something from a cartoon.

Moca stretched her arms to her sides and fell back into Ran’s grip, held up by the hands like in a freeze frame from a choreographed dance. Her smile turned into a smug smirk, like she was so proud to have figured this whole thing out and wanted to rub it in everyone’s face. “In case you haven’t caught on, we’re both girls now~.”

Tsugu was giddy, hopping in place like she was ready to burst into delighted weeping. Himari tilted her head back and forth, always the slowest to catch on, while Tomoe raised her fist toward the ceiling and shouted, “Aw man, that’s awesome! Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you two. I’ll kick anyone’s ass if they try to fuck with either of you!”

Ran chuckled, calm, the beating in her chest settled to a relaxed rhythm. There were smiles and laughs, tears and hugs. Once Himari had finally registered everything, she immediately suggested a big group hug and a photo together to commemorate this special moment. A moment of love and bliss for all five of them, but Ran and Moca most of all. A moment that would open a new chapter of their lives, an uphill journey toward their true selves.

* * *

Now Ran’s thumb hovered beneath that photo on the next page. A young couple surrounded by the warmth and acceptance of their three best friends -- friends who would do whatever it takes to defend their eternal bond. Heh, she was getting teary eyed now. The compassion in everyone’s hearts was too much to handle at times like that. It was difficult to even fathom how much an impact those girls had on the young couple, the boys who found themselves reawakened as young maidens.

She set aside the album and bent forward, leaning upside-down on the edge of her bed, her hair brushing against the wooden floor. From below, she pulled out the old diary and blew the dust away, flipping pages until she found that roadmap. Her finger glided down the page, stopping thirteen lines in beside a question answered by scribbles and engraved writing, an irreplaceable permanence that made fiction into reality and desire into truth.

_ Day 13: What would Moca say if I became a girl? Answer: _ _ <s>I hope he’d still love me.</s> _ _ She still loves me (and I love her). _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter ended up being pretty experimental. in my previous trans-centric writing, i've strayed away from intentional misgendering of trans characters even when referring to them pre-coming out and such (with the exception of openly hostile characters). but as i was writing this, i played around with how to handle it and got really into the usage of he/him -- there was this dreadful and uneasy vibe it gave off each time it showed up. it helped set the mood of "this is a point in their lives where they feel like there's something wrong with them" because the pronoun itself is wrong, uncomfortable. and i felt it would be cathartic for their pronouns to switch once they finally begin to understand themselves.


	4. Aurora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Afterglow's vocalist keeps mysteriously vanishing, and Moca's heart is on the verge of collapse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moca POV. CW for dysphoria.
> 
> (fyi: odd numbered chapters are ran POV, even numbered chapters are moca POV.)

_ “Not good. Not good at all.” _ Moca sat against the wall on the studio’s wooden floor, guitar rested against her knees, base pressing down on her skirt. Her fingertips tightened around one tuning knob as she used her free hand to pick at the A string. Hmm, not quite right. She twisted the head by a hair. Better, but something else felt off. Practice was supposed to start five minutes ago, and Ran was entirely missing without a word. Again. For the third day in a row.

Himari’s cheeks puffed and eyebrows furrowed. “Jeez, where could she be?!” Her face was buried into her phone, probably staring at their LINE group’s logs in fruitless hopes that maybe Ran would’ve given them some type of notice before mysteriously bailing like this.

“She was in class earlier. I wonder if something happened,” Tsugu suggested.

“Relax guys~. She’s a busy woman, after all.” Moca was really trying to convince herself, if anything. Beneath her laid-back demeanor was a girl worried to the brink of panic. Missing pieces from their perfect ‘same as always’ practice left a hole in her heart. Tuning guitars together, listening to Ran’s hurricane of a singing voice, and making casual, loving jabs from the bottom of her heart -- their absence was a sign of the worst. The rift between them had opened once more.

“I dunno, dude. Three days in a row is pretty suspicious.” Tomoe was dead-on. It’s not like Ran was being totally uncommunicative, either. She’d walked to school with them and wasn’t skipping class or anything, but she avoided any questions about where she was during practice. First instinct was her dad was being a pain in the ass again, but her demeanor left no evidence. Hell, she actually seemed pretty upbeat. So where on earth could she be spending her afternoons?

A restless miasma seeped through the studio. At Tsugu’s behest, they tried to push on with practice even in Ran’s absence, but the vibe just wasn’t coming together. Moca’s fingers were shaky, her rhythm was all off and the strings refused to bend to her will. And Tomoe’s drumming was way too subdued. Tsugu was trying her best of course, but even her best was less without Ran’s blazing aura to buff the whole group. Maybe, if they at least knew what was going on, things would be different. They’ve had successful sessions minus one member before, but never with this air of stress tying them down.

Things got cut short early with the unanimous sense of 'not really feeling it'. Himari was already making plans to investigate as the other girls packed up. “Tsugu and I are gonna stop by her house to see if she’s around, I guess? Can you two check the school in case she’s still there?”

“Gotcha,” Tomoe nodded. Moca joined her side, but thought to herself that the chances Ran would be there seemed slim at best. Not that she had any better ideas.

They scoured high and low through the roof and the entrance, every second-year classroom, and the teachers' office just in case. No Ran. "Dammit!" Tomoe shouted with an exaggerated punch to the hallway wall.

Both their phones buzzed at once and Himari's icon appeared on-screen. The text [not here either…] displayed along with the sticker of a sad-looking anthropomorphic goat girl. She couldn't have been at flower-arrangement classes either since all of those were listed on the group planner.

Tomoe left early; apparently had something to take care of with Ako and couldn’t be bothered to continue on this goose chase. On her way out the school’s gate, Moca bumped into Lisa. "What's up? Didn't you have practice today?" the angelic feline asked.

"Change of plans. I’m looking for a stray."

* * *

Somehow, within minutes Moca ended up in cushioned booth at a fast-food joint with Roselia's glamorous bassist, whose graceful image was contrasted by a comically long french fry between her teeth. A whole mountain of fries sat between them as she consulted Lisa's wisdom.

"I think I saw her heading toward Yukina's place earlier? They were walking home together, but Yukina wouldn’t even look in her direction and Ran was glaring, eyes like knives. And I know she doesn’t live anywhere near us, so I dunno what they were up to?"

“Oh…? Fufu, how interesting~.” Moca tried to imagine that maybe Ran had spent the last few days skipping practice in hopelessly attempting to best her rival. Hey, it wasn't out of the question.

"But yeah, disappearing like that seems unusual even by her standards. You think she's trying to take something on alone again?"

"She seems happy, though." Moca sighed with deep despair, her thoughts trailed off to an uneasy place. "If Ran is happy… and she's avoiding Moca…"

"Hey!" Lisa's brows furrowed, her lips glowered. "Don't go making assumptions like that!"

Moca couldn't help but wonder, though. Ran seemed to get moody whenever she made gender jokes and the jealous glances weren't going away. Maybe all the little frustrations had built up to the boiling point and she'd decided she'd rather just distance herself. "Mmm…" She couldn't imagine a life without Ran. After all, she was good for nothing besides sticking by her beloved's side. She pulled a fry out of the pile, dipped, and munched. The taste of ketchup rolled in her mouth as dread rolled through her stomach. That girl was her guiding light, her reason for being. Without Ran's back to motivate her, she never would've made it this far running forward with her transition. If she lost that light now, what would remain of her? Would she have to return to those dreadful days of dysphoria and disdain? Ran was her strength, her spirit. Only with Ran could she persevere through the worst days.

Lisa grimaced while digging through the fry pile. "She might need time before she's ready to open up. Just be patient, I'm sure you'll be alright."

Moca smirked, her usual coy expression returning for a split-second. "Miss Moca has the patience of an angel!" Something about feigned overconfidence gave her a rush, like she gained a sliver of actual confidence along the way.

"Speaking of the adorable and charming Miss Moca, your hair is getting pretty long. Gonna grow it out?"

She clutched the bottom strands of her hair. Damn, it was to her shoulders now? It'd been a hot minute since her last haircut. "I could. I hadn't really thought about it." She had a few reasons she'd never tried to grow it out. Some of it was self-doubt. Like, could she really look good with long hair? And it seemed like a pain to manage. But the real reason was Ran. Inspired by her style, fearful of her envy. She always skirted a thin line between not outright copying her, but never looking more enchanting than she did. She didn't want to accidentally trip her girlfriend’s dysphoria wires.

Lisa searched her purse and pulled out a black scrunchie with white polka-dots. "Well, take this just in case." She passed it through the air and Moca caught it around her index finger.

Moca pulled it down to her wrist and stared. "I wonder what Ran would think."

"Why not ask her? She's your girlfriend, after all."

"Ask her…?"

"You gotta be open and honest with her. If you really love her, you can't keep the words hidden."

She stared down in shame, her eyes dropping halfway shut. "Moca is no good with words though." It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten this lecture, and all things considered it definitely wouldn’t be the last. And god, the truth hurts like hell. Moca couldn’t go two sentences without trying to hide whatever she was really feeling and at this point it was an unbreakable habit that could only backfire.

* * *

A day later and Ran finally showed up to practice in a sleeveless leather jacket over a surreal, dark pink band tee. From her waist down was a starry red skirt like the night sky seen through a rose-tinted lens. Even the fedora on her head matched the ensemble perfectly. Hot. "Yo," she waved to the others with a casual tone. Moca almost wanted to scold her, but her heart was tied by the strings of her girlfriend's cool aura.

Of course Tomoe wasn’t just gonna let her get away with it. “Ran, where the hell have you been?” she shouted.

Her eyes dodged around the room and her face grew shy. “It’s not important, is it?”

“We’ve been worried sick about you," Tsugu explained, timid.

“I’ve just been busy, okay?”

“You could’ve at least updated your schedule then!” Himari pouted.

“Sorry, it was pretty short notice so I didn’t have time to fix it.”

Moca recalled Lisa's tip, the lingering uncertainty of what she could've been doing at the lavender songstress' lair kept her head in the clouds. She spoke with a hint of sarcasm, "Raaan, have you been cheating on us~?"

A look of disgust flashed on Ran’s face. Not of guilt, but betrayal. “Don’t you dare even joke about that kind of thing.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool~. You’re so cool and so gorgeous, I’m sure other girls at school are all over you.” She smirked, her eyebrows rose with a knowing complacency. “Minato though? That’s a shocker.”

“Minato? Why, would I…? Wait.” Her cheeks glowed red, she avoided eye contact and turned her head aside. “Ugh, who told you about that? I told her to keep that a secret.”

"Fufu. The witch’s keeper caught you trailing her the other day.”

Ran remained frozen, her arms clearly shaking. After a minute, she finally pulled her neck from its lock and managed to meet eyes with Moca. She sighed, “Fine, no point in trying to hide it now. This past week I’ve been visiting Minato after school for, um. Vocal coaching...”

Tomoe, Himari, and Tsugu froze, their eyes all pointed to Ran. After a few quiet seconds of processing, they simultaneously exclaimed, “O-oh!” Moca would’ve joined, but her gaze fixated on Ran, whose face shone beneath an overhead light. Even the shy frown dazzled with an unknowable radiance, her quiet eyes revealed an unpleasant honesty. Uh-oh, at this rate Ran really was gonna leave her in the dust.

“Yeah. She’s insufferable as hell and a pain in the ass to be around, but she knows her stuff. I think it’s helping a bit.”

Tomoe stepped up and cleared her throat. “That’s awesome, I’m real glad for you. But couldn’t you have just told us?”

“I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise for next time you heard me sing. And…” She hung her head and kicked at the floorboards. “I was embarrassed. I was afraid you guys would tease me about it.”

A pain flowed through Moca’s heart, a familiar sensation of empathy. Yet it was distant, too. She had to run faster if she wanted to keep up. Chasing after her Ran was the only way forward, but still, she had to lag behind. She wanted to follow in repairing the awful voice that plagued her throat, but her paranoia chained her down. What would Ran think? Would she resent her for it?

Himari tried to cheer Ran up with kind words, insisting, “You know we wouldn’t! It’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

“No, Ran is right to be afraid,” Moca approached Ran’s side and turned back. She glanced at Tomoe and Himari both, her gaze lingering on the sweet, innocent Tsugu behind the keyboard. “It’s shameful of us to even need that extra step just to be ourselves, isn’t it?” Was this being open and honest like Lisa suggested? Brutal truths were all she could come up with to mask the envy and tension buried beneath.

She could see it on their faces -- all of them wanted to say something, it was on the tip of their tongues. About how it’s not true, how much it hurt that Ran and Moca had to feel that way. And of course, she knew those three didn’t think there was anything wrong with them for the lives they were stuck with. But their sympathy pushed back any counterargument, leaving the whole room dead silent aside from the buzzing of lights overhead.

The quiet broke when Ran burst out giggling all of a sudden. “Damn Moca, way to kill the mood,” she teased before ruffling her hand through Moca’s bedhead. As much she wanted to protest, the affection was too powerful. Ran’s fingers atop her head were gentle, loving. Her heart felt warm, anxiety faded leaving only a chilly longing for her girlfriend’s mellow love. And god, she sure as hell wasn’t expecting it right then and there.

Ran set her guitar case on the ground and crouched to unpack it. As her head was buried behind the back of the case, she spoke. “For real though, I’m sorry for disappearing like that and causing you guys to worry.”

It took all of Moca’s strength to hold herself back from kneeling down beside Ran and giving her the tightest hug. Instead, she kept her eyes on the legendary red-streak across her hair. “Promise you won’t do it again~?”

With a cool, confident grin and guitar strapped around her shoulders, Ran looked almost majestic. “Promise.” The warmth in Moca’s heart soon grew into a full-on eruption. She couldn’t take her sight off Ran, not even for a second during the rest of practice. She really was hopelessly, desperately in love with the smooth-talking punk, hot enough to melt her ever-growing worries.

* * *

Familiar sunset streets lit the path home, a radiant shine peeked through from behind nearby tree branches. Moca followed Ran homeward once the other three parted ways, leaving the couple with only each other’s comforting presence down the nostalgic road. “So… voice coaching, huh? How’s that going?”

“Fine. Not much progress yet, but can’t expect things to happen fast.”

Moca hummed quietly, though the song itself was incoherent. Her heart grew unsettled. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Open and honest. “I’m proud of you, really.”

“T-thanks.” She couldn’t see Ran’s face, but she was sure there was a soft crimson lost within the evening’s golden light on her cheeks.

A question hung on her tongue, her throat pulled it back before she could speak. Her lips dried and heartbeat slowed. Deep breaths, still. “Do you think she could coach me, too?”

“I guess.”

“Huh~? What’s that mean~?”

“You don’t really need it, right? You already sound like a girl.”

Her heart skipped a beat, eyes forced wide open. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no. “What…?”

“I’m honestly super jealous of you. You pass pretty much effortlessly.”

Fuck. Fuck. Ouch. Ooouch. Her footsteps came to a near-halt, and an uncomfortable half-smile formed across her lips as the sting in her chest broke her spirit. Ran glanced back. “If… Ran says so…” Her vacant stare revealed more than just the pain in her own heart. It held all of her uncertainty, all the fear she had tried to lock away. Her vision began to blur. Her mask started to crumble. Everything crumbled, including the balance in her feet. Her ankle twisted with one more step. Strength drained, she fell to the sidewalk with her bare knees scraped against the pavement. It burned like hell, but that hardly registered compared to the scorch of every vein inside her body.

“Moca?” Ran dashed to her side, but her figure was all an amorphous shape in the haze of panic. 

Why, why, why? The only word she could think, caught in her stomach. Just barely leaking out like the blood from her palms planted in the sidewalk. “I was trying… to be more honest…”

Ran reached her hand out. Moca lifted her own, praying their skin against each others’ would wash it all away. But no luck. Instead, she followed her first instinct and slapped it away. Instinct? No... why… why would -- why  _ did _ she do that? For a split-second, Ran’s image came into focus. Ran reached out, wordless, terrified. Nails dug into concrete, Moca gazed up and showed Ran her shattered grief -- what she could only believe was a face scarred by hideous anguish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personal: so october 14th is my birthday, and the couple days after it roughly marks seven years since i came to terms with being trans. feels like a long time by now, eh? writing about the stuff i've felt -- and stuff those around me have felt -- has honestly been super cathartic in a sense, and it brings bliss to my heart whenever someone says those kinds of feelings reached them or resonated with them through my work.
> 
> since it was recently national coming out day, well. i think rather than coming out to others, i just want to say that figuring yourself out in general can be a real nightmare. so as a message to those of you who have managed that, or those of you still sorting through those feelings:
> 
> “I’m proud of you, really.”


	5. Entropy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ran is stuck ruminating on a mistake, and she's not sure how to proceed.

Staring off the rooftop into the distant blue skies with her elbows propped onto the fence, the one thing on Ran’s mind was just how the hell she could say something so insensitive, so… awful.  _ “I’m honestly super jealous of you. You pass pretty much effortlessly.” _ It echoed back and forth through her mind like a boomerang until it started to seem like she was the one it was meant for. It was lunchtime, but her appetite had already crawled out of her body. The townscape below offered little comfort, and as summer drew closer, the sun’s warmth had already gone from comforting to stifling. She forced a sigh from her belly, the weight on her shoulders refusing to lighten up even by an ounce.

She was just being honest, she told herself. Moca was born lucky, she had it so much easier. As much as she loved her, she had every right to be jealous. But that excuse wasn’t enough to erase the image of Moca’s bleeding knees scraped against the pavement and that look on her face of pure emotional torment. They hadn’t said a word since. Not just to each other -- Moca hadn’t spoken, period. She sat wide awake through every class for the past three days, silent. No jokes, no remarks, no chatter with the other girls at all. Ran’s heart shattered to the sound of muted wind.

She hung her head and stared at the grass three stories below.  _ “Man, what is wrong with me?”  _ It was something deeper than unjustified envy. Was it all the jokes over the years? About estrogen and spiro, about the circumstances separating themselves from other girls? It dug under her skin whenever Moca made light of their shared pain. The fact that she can be so laid-back about that sort of thing meant she wasn’t taking it seriously, it felt like. Yet the two of them were the same -- the hell they suffered together was real, so how could Moca joke about it?

Moca… Her girlfriend. What did that mean, though? Not like she didn’t love her, but what did that love mean? It had been a long while since the last time she laid eyes on her girlfriend and thought about her looks as anything other than a source of spite. That was kind of weird for a long-term relationship, wasn’t it? Moca was always making comments about how sexy and irresistible Ran was, but she couldn’t remember the last time she returned those compliments. It was their inseparability that brought them together, but was that enough to maintain things as they grew? Did she see her lover as smokin' hot, or was Moca just a clingy girl who she didn’t mind keeping around?

The rooftop door creaked open from behind, footsteps drew near. Familiar footsteps. Obnoxiously familiar, coming in fast. “Mitake. I knew you’d be up here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She didn’t even bother giving Minato the witch a proper glance as greeting.

“You missed yesterday, so it’s time for extracurricular lessons.”

"Tch. Is this a joke?" She hadn't really been in the mood to show up with all this lingering guilt. How could she keep moving if it was killing Moca inside? But Minato was the last person she expected to worry about an absence. Any excuse for her nemesis to goad her, she supposed.

Her footsteps drew closer, her tone grew snappy. "I'd expect you to at least show up, considering you were the one who approached me."

"Um, about that." Ran's heart ached. "A friend wanted to know if you were taking on any other pupils." Moca’s face flashed through her mind once more. Broken and pale, her mouth half-open with anguish in her eyes. By now it was burned into her memory.

An arrogant sigh crept down her back as the witch drew near. "I suppose I could. Maybe I'll start charging for these sessions."

Ran’s gut churned, guilt twisting her insides. Immediately, she spoke with shame, “I'll pay for her.” After the horrible thing she’d said to Moca, it was the least she could do. Jesus, she really needed to mend things but she had no clue where to even start.

Minato popped up beside her in the corner of her eye. "Relax, I was joking.” Her tone softened with a hint of empathy. She leaned back, elbows against the railing, looked toward the sky and released a restful sigh. Ran considered backing away, but couldn’t find the drive in herself. “The world is vast and overwhelming sometimes. Everything is so much bigger than us, and that’s terrifying. But these infinite skies always give us somewhere familiar to call home. For you that’s ‘afterglow’, yes?”

Ran’s face remained stiff silent. But Minato’s words reached her heart. Maybe a bit too deeply, in fact.

“For me, it’s the clouds. Ever since I was little, whenever I was upset I’d look to the sky and try to spot a cloud I loved. As you could imagine, it was usually one shaped like a cat.”

Minato must’ve cast some kind of charming hex -- this was the first time Ran felt relaxed from listening to her speak. How abnormal, yet somehow her pulse had calmed a fair bit, no longer dwelling solely on that persistent grief. “Why are you telling me this?”

Minato lowered her head and faced Ran. Ran broke out of her stiff position and placed her palms against the fence, returning the glance in kind. The songstress spoke with a soft smile, “Because you’re my pupil.”   
  


Urk, she was definitely under Minato’s spell now, her heart opened up to her nemesis’ kindness. The words seemed to spill out, “I hurt someone important to me. I’m not sure how to fix things.”

"What happened?"

"I said I was jealous. I didn't realize how cruel that was."

"And why were you jealous?"

"Because she's lucky. She has it easy. At least, that's what I thought."

"Is that so?" Minato placed her finger over her lip, eyes rolled. "You wouldn't say the same of yourself, would you?"

The question pierced her like the tip of a spear, sharpened steel right against her chest. "No. I guess I thought we were the same in a way. But I was dead wrong, and now I have no clue how to understand her."

Minato looked out toward the townscape. Her fingers slid across the railing toward Ran's. She tried to place her palm atop Ran’s knuckles, but Ran swiftly pulled her hands back. “And this person is that same ‘friend’, correct? Aoba?”

“Yeah,” Ran grumbled, begrudged. God, was it really that obvious?

Minato released a wistful sigh, her arm stretched away from the roof. "It's admirable, though. Accepting yourself can't be easy when it means you're living in liminality."

"You don't even know the half of it," Ran scoffed.

Minato took another minute, gazing into the scenery. "I didn't choose to be a girl. Not to say you did, but… would I have chosen it for myself? Would I have chosen to be a boy instead? Neither of those seem right, so what does that make me?"

A silence filled the still rooftop air. Not particularly in the mood to solve the witch's dilemma for her, Ran sighed and leaned back against the fence. Her turn to stare at the clouds overhead, enveloping the sunlight. “I guess there’s no way you’d understand.”

Minato's eyes turned frigid, she glared at her with eyes like falling stalactites of ice. Her soft expression had become a tempered glower. "Cut that shit out, would you?"

"What?" Ran flinched, the sudden shift in mood breaking the hex of trust.

Grimacing, Minato shook her head. “Do you really believe that just because you’ve never lived someone else’s life, you can’t understand their feelings?” She stared directly into Ran’s eyes, her scowl transformed to a stern smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve never been great with that either. It may be difficult, but it’s worth it to try to understand what Aoba feels."

"I thought I did before. But how can I understand her when we're nothing alike?"

Minato pulled out her phone and glanced back toward the door. Lunch was probably almost over, but Ran wasn’t ready to show her face around the others. "Think about it. The barriers that separate you from her -- what would you need to cross them? If you truly care for that girl, you'll have to find a way through."

Ran groaned, but her heart faltered for a moment. She hadn't thought of it like that before. But there was truth in Minato’s words -- a shocking degree of truth, considering the messenger. As the witch turned away toward the door, she tilted her head back. "And Ran. Take good care of her. She's my pupil too, after all -- tell her I'll be waiting." There was a glisten in their eye, a single tear shed for lovers divided, for lost girls in need. Were they really the same Yukina Minato she had constantly butted heads with merely for being in each other’s vicinity? For a second, she wondered if perhaps they weren’t a wicked sorceress, but a wise sage. They had given her what she needed to move forward, the rest was up to her to put into practice.

* * *

Ran barged through the classroom door and exchanged a brief glance with a zombie-like Moca from the back row by the wall. Her eyes were dead wide, but Ran tried her best to respond with sympathy. It probably didn't come across, but nevertheless she returned to her seat by the window just in time for the lecture. 

While her ears and hands took notes on autopilot, she found herself staring back to Moca almost relentlessly. She was sure of one thing: all this time, she had been unfair to not only Moca, but herself too. How could she cross those barriers, she wondered?

She remembered every joke, every jest and every prank that seemed to make light of their situation. No, wait. There was a sad shimmer in her eyes every single time. Dishonest, yet so revealing.  _ "Those weren't just jokes, were they?"  _ They were life support, the only way Moca could get by on a day-to-day basis within their cruel reality. And with that realization, the one barrier shattered.

She remembered their last concert, and every concert before. Just for a second, she'd glance back. Moca's image bathed in beautiful azure light, completely lost in her own roaring sound. She took for granted how much that sight truly gave her the strength to sing, to unleash her voice upon the world -- no matter how much she hated it.  _ "Why haven't I told her?" _ With a promise to sing the truth from her heart, another barrier crumbled into dust.

She remembered years past. The band-aid across Moca's chin, the fear inside her teary eyes beneath the moon-lit bridge. Their hands together as they stood before Hazawa cafe, how Moca's fingers shivered and stirred, begging for courage. Born lucky -- passed effortlessly. Bullshit.  _ "This whole time, you were hurting too. And I ignored you. I’ve been so stupid." _ With an understanding of divergent pain, one more barrier vanished in the wind.

The memory faded and their hands broke apart, cataclysm tore them away, leaving a chasm between them. On the edge, Moca's lone figure trapped in a frigid hailstorm seemed ready to break apart. Only one way to reach her. Sing, shout, call out.  _ "Moca!"  _ she yelled in her mind. "Moca!" And without even realizing, she was back on the school's rooftop with the spiritless girl before her.

The familiar dusk backdrop against the school's roof never got old. Ran swallowed the air and her nerves along with. Another familiar sight: beautiful ivory hair glistening in the sun's last light. Moca remained dead silent, still, but her eyes followed along carefully. The image from the other day flashed through Ran’s mind again, choking her up for a second. She clenched her fist, blood pumping.

"I hadn't considered how you felt. I'm sorry." Her balance loosened, she caught herself against the stair enclosure. Ran held back tears, flame in her heart overwhelming all else. Moca remained silent, listening. “I kept comparing myself to you, I thought you were lucky. I kept telling myself you had it easy. And that led me to resent you.”

Moca took a step forward, her arms drooping at her sides. It was clear she wanted to reach out, to speak once more. But only silence echoed from her gaping mouth. Then a whimper, a shrill yet weak cry of distant sorrow.

The guilt in Ran’s heart broke through, and teardrops jerked out from her eyes. “I don’t want to resent you though! I love you, I really do! I’m so... inconsiderate.”

Moca blinked, her head tilted. She lifted one hand to her face, fingers hid her mouth. Then, with that same hand, she reached out. “Ran… loves me...?” Her words were slow, unsteady, uneasy. She shook and shivered, but the sound of her voice was still a huge relief.

Her balance faded, Ran fell forward, arms latched onto Moca’s shoulders. Her face buried into her girlfriend’s neck, she wailed, “Of course I do. I’ve been with you this long, haven’t I?”

She half-expected a return hug, but Moca’s arms were motionless, timid. “But Moca is… a coward…”

Heartache again -- a pain in Ran’s chest that went unmended as the hurting in Moca’s voice remained.  _ “You’re so brave! I was stupid!” _ she wanted to scream, but her strength rapidly dissipated. She pulled her face away and looked directly into Moca’s weary eyes. “You don’t have to forgive me. But please… I hate seeing you like this.”

Another vacant stare. Great, she had really broken the girl she loved. She drew her arms back, ready to give up. But as she turned away toward the fading sunset, something caught her wrist. She glanced back, and saw shadows cast over half of Moca’s face. The other half was painted in a crisp golden light, radiating in both her sorrow and desire. In that instant, with Ran’s wrist and heart completely seized by her, there was no doubt about it -- Moca was amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> agender!yukina is an idea i've had for a bit but i couldn't think of much significant with it. i'm glad i got to make use of it here, even if it's not the central focus or anything.


	6. Symbiotic Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's live our lives heroically, let's live them with style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moca POV. trans!sayo, along with the usual trans moca and ran.

With an honest face and teardrops glistening in the orange light, Ran looked cooler than ever. Not ‘too cool for school’ cool. Cool in a real way, the kind of cool that means dropping your guard and letting someone see you at your most pitiful. Moca’s heart was pounding like crazy, and as her grip tightened around the punk maiden’s wrist, she felt all her strength return through her veins. “Ran…” she whispered in the weakened late-spring breeze.

Even in her shining moment, Ran was speechless. Something she had said dug straight into Moca’s heart like a silver bullet and revealed a severe wound she hadn’t noticed. It must’ve been sitting there for years, only growing more infected with every passing day, every passing thought. Beneath every barrier was this festering scar, the scar of self-resentment.

She was equally guilty. All this time, she’d been chasing after an untouchable flame, fearing she could never catch up -- fearing there was nowhere else to turn. Now that flame was right within her grasp, yet she had lost the will to take it for herself. No, the way was foggy but there was one clear truth: this light alone would get her nowhere. “Ran… kiss me.”

“Ohhh,” Ran whispered in return. Moca pulled her in close, and their lips met. When was the last time they had kissed like this? It didn’t matter. The tender warmth of Ran’s love was an all-encompassing feeling -- it washed away every bit of dread in her heart. For now, at least. Ran was shaking, still. Guilt, no doubt. But even without the words, Moca had already forgiven her. Lips locked, they held together for nearly a minute, enough time to express feelings through silent action.

Once their lips parted, Ran’s unsteady gaze met with her own. As evening cleared and the dust of their emotions settled, Moca realized that she had more in her heart that needed release, but she lacked the words. “I need time to think. Next time we speak, I want to try for real. To be open and honest.”

“Okay,” Ran nodded. “I’ll be waiting. And… I love you.”

* * *

Into the next day, one question stuck: If the flame wasn’t what she sought, then what? She had been following in Ran’s footsteps, carefully half-emulating her for so long that she had lost sight of any other goal. And now she was lost, wondering who to become if not a fragment of the girl she admired.

After school, she elected to grab comfort bread from Yamabuki bakery and surprisingly caught Tomoe and Himari loitering inside. With no semblance of an answer, Moca asked her trusted comrades for help.

“I mean, I never thought you were much like Ran, you know? Just 'cause she inspired you doesn’t mean you were copying her, right?” It was almost funny -- if Moca had been following Ran’s light, then she’d been following Tomoe by proxy. A ghost’s light, too far to see but still drawing her in.

“I just followed along with her and did what felt natural. So that she wouldn't hate me.”

“But you aren’t just Ran-lite! You’re the adorable and charming Miss Moca, aren’t you?! You’re devilish and mean sometimes, but you’re cute and dependable too!” This was maybe the most Himari had ever complimented her. And she called her ‘devilish’ and ‘cute’, too, fufu. Today must have been special, or maybe she was trying to win over her heart in exchange for snacks.

A smug grin slipped through. “Go on, I’m listening~.”

“You’re full of surprises, like how you’re somehow always the first one to practice even on weekends and you ace every exam while you sleep through class. And you’re brave! You and Ran both!”

“And I’m sexy~?”

“Yes, you’re absolutely sexy! Wait, I mean… Hey! You did that on purpose!” Tomoe burst out in a fit of laughter from behind while Himari pouted, cheeks puffed.

“It’s okay, Himari. You can say it. Miss Moca is sexy~.”

Tomoe pat Himari’s hair to settle her down, adding, “Aha, that confidence is another one of your charm points.”

Moca felt the icy layer around her heart begin to melt. Tomoe and Himari weren't always the most perceptive, but their hearts and actions made up for it. Tomoe was like a meteor crashing through the stratosphere, while Himari was more of a generous UFO hovering overhead with dim-witted kindness.

Tomoe placed her hand against Moca's shoulder. "If you want to change, I'm behind you all the way. Just don't lose sight of what matters most to you, alright?"

Moca nodded with confidence, trying her best not to let her earnest elation show. But she couldn't hold back a gigantic grin when Tomoe and Himari threw their arms around her shoulders for a group hug. A genuine grin, not a shit-eating one. Though she still lacked an answer, she needed that sort of affirmation to maintain herself. Before she could find a new end point, she needed a starting point -- her own adorable, sexy, devilish self.

* * *

Stuffing a slice of strawberry cheesecake down her throat, Moca sat across the table from Tsugumi and Sayo at Hazawa cafe. Ran’s apology stuck on her mind -- she was grappling with the venomous resentment tucked away in her heart. She told herself over and over that she was fine with being a false replica inside Ran's massive shadow. But truth exposed, the constant lies were now obsolete.

As Sayo set down her teacup, steam rose out. The noble rose had a certain elegance beneath her typically cold demeanor. "Your situation does sound awfully familiar. I was the same way when I was younger." Tsugumi must have detected the discomfort in Sayo's words, she had already attached her arms to the guitarist's waist. Moca felt an intense yearning crawling on her skin, the insatiable craving for Ran's affection.

“I was so surprised when I saw you on a Roselia poster. I thought Hina had grown her hair out again.” Moca had known the Hikawas since childhood thanks to their moms being friends, but there was a long gap during middle school in which she hadn’t seen either of them. She always got a kick out of the fact that all of the boys she befriended as a kid were now beautiful young women, herself included.

Sayo lifted her hand and ran it through Tsugumi’s hair. The two of them were undeniably really fucking cute together, Moca couldn’t bear it. “Oh my, how adorable~. What is it that you two find so interesting about each other, anyway?”

“Excuse me?” Sayo’s eye twitched. Her glare was ice-shattering, like the sharpened edge of a pickaxe. And admittedly, it was pretty hot, too.

“Ehehe, not like thaaat. I’m just trying to figure out what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. You know, so I can be a better girlfriend for Ran.”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Tsugumi’s head rose, straight to the clouds it seemed as she placed both hands over her cheeks and smiled with absolute delight. “What I love about Sayo is how she’s so dedicated and passionate, but she’s got a real soft heart too! She’s sweet and caring, even if she’s not always the best at showing it. She’s really pretty! I love her hair and her face, her delicate touch even with fingertips roughened by years of guitar practice. And she’s so selfless, she always helps out if someone’s in trouble! Hehe, don’t tell her I said that though. She gets embarrassed when you talk about what a wonderful girl she is!”

Sayo’s face was pure scarlet at this point, her hands hardly enough to cover the fire in her skin. Fufu, how amusing that Roselia’s serious, aloof guitarist would lose her composure this easily. Good work, Tsugu! “And how about you, Sayo?”

Face now buried into Tsugu’s chestnut hair, Sayo’s voice came out muffled. “I… think you can probably guess.”

She smirked. “Don’t act so embarrassed, it’s impossible not to fall for a girl that Tsugurific. Her charm is irresistible~.”

After a minute, Sayo’s face cooled down, her eyes giving an empathetic glance. “But honestly, what’s important is communication and trust. If not for being comfortable sharing exactly how we felt with each other, our relationship might not have lasted this long.”

“Hmm… Maybe you’re right, but that’s haaard.”

Tsugu growled like a pup, soft and adorably frustrated with eyes furrowed, still too cute to be threatening. “Moca, you love Ran right?”

Oof, she couldn’t avoid lectures like this when it came from Tsugu’s mouth. “Yeah, with all my heart.”

“Then you have to tell her that! You can’t expect her to know what you want if you never tell her. And if you don’t show her your true face, she can’t see how pretty you are!"

“What I want…” It always came back to denied desires. She had always feared the envy and agony that might arise from want -- but at this point, it seemed her only choice was to face those desires. No turning back now.

“What is it that you want, Moca?” Sayo’s frown was chilling, but comforting in a way. She understood the road Moca traveled perhaps better than anyone. There was a certain kindness in her forceful tone.

“I used to want to be Tsugu, actually.”

“Me?!” Tsugu jumped back in shock, pointing to herself in confusion.

Moca nodded. “I wanted to be sweet and honest like you. Then I wanted to be like Ran. But now I don’t know what it is I want.”

“What about who you are?” Sayo asked.

“Huh~?”

“The only way you’re going to find out what it is you want is by determining who ‘Moca’ is. Not by chasing after an ideal of someone else, and not by trying to fit some predestined role either. The only one who can decide what it means to be Moca is you, Moca.”

Suddenly the fog of self-doubt had cleared from the path ahead, only to reveal a maze of wants and needs. But eyes wide open, she'd find her true desires for herself. "Moca is…"

* * *

Moca lay in bed, restless with a notebook and pen in her pillow. An amber glow seeped through her window and covered the blank white sheet of paper. At Tsugu and Sayo’s behest, she started writing things down in hopes to navigate out of this self-constructed labyrinth. Maybe if she threw enough words at that wall, the maze would collapse on its own. But an hour in, she could barely come up with three questions.

_ Who is Moca? _

_ What do I want? _

_ How do I get there? _

She recalled Tomoe and Himari’s admiration, the slew of compliments that helped her see herself under the mist.

_ Who is Moca? Moca is an adorable, sexy, talented, charming, loveable, dependable, funny, incredible girl who is full of surprises. _

But what came next? A set of adjectives wasn’t enough to paint a picture of the future she yearned for. This was tougher than expected. She scanned around the room for any clues as the sun's light faded from her window and night settled in. On the rug was a whole pile of clothes in disarray, jackets and shirts sloppily left half-folded. In the corner by the pile she noticed the scrunchie Lisa had given her, a black band with white polka-dots. She rolled off the bed and tied the scrunchie around her wrist, then pulled herself up. In front of the mirror on her dresser, she snatched a clump from the back of her hair and pulled it aside. Carefully, she wrapped the scrunchie around it and tied it together. "Hmmm," she wondered aloud, gazing at her lush new ponytail hanging from the side of her hair. It was a new kind of charm, girlish in its own right. And her face looked that much cuter with its new companion.

A light knock against her door rang out. "Moca, I'm home!" called her mom.

She rushed to the door with a sudden glee and yanked it open. Her mom looked comfortably professional in her light cardigan off the shoulders, striped ruched top and black pencil skirt. Her hair was a feathered pixie bob with loose bangs, ivory like Moca's but more clean-cut. "Welcome home, mama. Late shift again?"

She held her fingers against her temples and frowned. "Yeah, sorry I've been so busy lately. Did you eat already?"

"Yeah, Tsugu and her girlfriend treated me."

Mama placed her finger against her chin. "And Tsugumi was dating… Haru's kid? Her name is Sayo now, right?"

"Yay, you remembered~." Moca raised her hand, then thrust forward. Her mom returned the gesture and their palms clapped together for a high five. Mama was the best -- accepting, super supportive and usually chill, someone anyone could easily place their trust in. No doubt that's where she got her own chill attitude from. It had always been just the two of them, so mama’s personality surely rubbed off on her.

Mama leaned in close and narrowed her eyes. "You look different. Ponytail?"

"Actually…" An unknowable future with a new direction, she wondered what she might become. No time like the present to try something new. "I was thinking of growing my hair out."

Mama smirked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the door mantel. "You'd look great with long hair, I bet. I should show you how I had mine back in my band days, I probably have a photo lying around somewhere."

Moca glanced toward the window as her mom left to search. The waxing moon rose, its crescent light peered in like a curious kitten. Soon mama returned and handed her an old developed photograph depicting two girls. One was a young mama with long, unkempt rocker hair and messy bangs. She wore a black sleeveless zipper hoodie and a massive grin on her teeth. Beside her in the shot was the Hikawa twins' mom as a young adult, dressed in a long sailor uniform with arms crossed and a surgical face mask over her mouth, like a true delinquent. Her wavy mint hair was nearly down to her waist, ends dyed in a fading bubblegum pink.

Something in particular caught Moca's eye. Her mom's light hooded jacket with open shoulders was exactly her style, but freer. "Mama, do you still have this hoodie?"

“It doesn’t fit anymore, but it’s somewhere in my closet. You want it?”

Moca hesitated, fearing she asked too much already. But her promise was to be open and honest -- not just with Ran, but everyone. She nodded, “I wanna figure out what it means to be me. So I’m trying new things, but I also don’t wanna just copy anyone.”

A hint of concern formed in mama’s eyes, but she laughed gently. “Sure! Just a sec.” In a flash, she left and returned once more, holding the old hoodie between her arms. It was in good shape too, not even dusty. It must have been a kind of momento to her, but her smile showed a sincere kindness, willingness to part. She tossed it over and sighed with pride. “It’s okay to not know who you are, alright? Especially at your age. But I’m glad to help with anything I can.”

Moca stared at the jacket in her arms, then glanced back to her mom. “I think it’s something I need to figure out myself.”

Mama approached and stroked her fingers through Moca’s hair. “I actually always wanted a daughter. But when you were born, I had no idea you’d grow into such a fine young woman.”

She spoke from the heart, a loving assurance that no matter who Moca became, she’d have her back. And that she was proud of her daughter for what she’s accomplished, what she has yet to accomplish. That unflinching safety was like the calm flow of a stream. She hugged her mother tight as she could. “Thanks, mama.”

She soon returned to her notebook with a newfound courage, her mother’s hand-me-down at her side. She wrote once more, penstrokes striding across the page, creating scribbles and scratches for hours until she found an answer.

_ Who is Moca? Just a hot girl in a hoodie -- the rest to be determined. _

The next question stumped her; midnight passed and she had nothing. “_What do I want?” _When she had spent so long denying any desire beyond following someone else, what could she have wanted all along? What had she repressed? She dreamt of the possibilities as she stared at the moonlight in her window. She wanted Ran, of course. But not in that ‘stand by her side’ way -- she wanted Ran to see her, to really _ see _her. Not just Ran either, the whole world should be forced to gaze at Moca Aoba and know what kind of legendary girl she was. She’d had enough with hiding herself, it was time to take the cosmic stage and show this planet what she was made of.

She rested her head back against the pillow and reached out toward the ceiling. Himari had said she was dependable, full of surprises. Was that enough? As she dreamt a fantastic guitar solo that reached across the skies, she knew it wasn’t. Being reliable is one thing, but she wanted more. Not to just pull through when expectations were low. She sought to exceed all expectations, to be herself in the best way she could. Not to follow along with the others, but to be someone her friends could look up to. To transcend what it meant to be the Moca everyone else knew and become something else, something spectacular with a palpable presence all the way to the edge of the universe.

Her phone’s clock kept ticking on. Two o’clock. Three o’clock. Her eyes felt heavy, but she remained determined. Push past the drowsiness. She needed to hold Ran's hand, to be near her and not feel like shit. She wished to sincerely believe in the ‘adorable and charming’ girl she claimed to be, to cast off her mask into the ocean’s depths. To walk past mirrors and not focus on the flaws. She wished to be someone Himari could turn to for love advice; to be someone Tsugu could lean on instead of overworking herself to death; to be someone Tomoe didn’t need to protect. But she wished to continue being the girl who could crack jokes and tease her friends with love, too. And show that she really meant it when she said they were her world.

_ What do I want? The world and more. _

Time marched forward, and she still had another question. Sleeplessness was catching up, but she couldn’t let it win -- she had to press on for Ran’s sake. For her own sake. Maybe it was unreasonable, but she was finally getting somewhere and couldn’t rest now. But the last question had no true answer. “_How do I get there?” _She rolled on the floor. Nothing. Grabbed an early morning snack from the kitchen. Nothing. Cleaned and organized at least half of her depression pile. Nothing. Four in the morning. No inspiration, no answer to be found. Just scribbles on a page, words jot down with no discernible pattern, no coherence.

Five in the morning. The sun would rise soon. She wanted to witness it with her beloved once more, but she reached her dead end.

_ How do I get there? I don’t know. _

She fell back into bed, hope faded. Her eyelids dropped shut, submerged in sopor. In that split-second, a dream arose from deep in the caverns of her subconscious. A different bed, queen-sized. Her bangs covered half of her vision, but in the corner of her eye was the adorable sleeping face of a woman she knew better than anyone else. Right beside her, red streak glowing through the darkness. Maybe it was a year later, after their best concert ever. Ran’s fingers grazed the back of her hand. Maybe two years, the night of graduation. She tilted her head aside. Maybe five or six years, the night before their wedding. Her heartbeat was a piston, pumping rapidly, ceaselessly. Maybe ten years, first night back from surgery with scars across her chest. Her hand slid into Ran’s rested grasp, and all felt right. And the best part was that this was normal. It became their day-to-day. Always and forever.

It lasted only for a moment, but the heat in her heart was enough to last a lifetime. She rose once more, abrupt. The dead end before her had broken to bits. The sun’s light began to peek in beyond the distant mountains. Shit, no time to waste. She hastily threw on a monochromatic tube-top and a pair of black high rise shorts. She fixed her ponytail and donned her mother’s sleeveless hoodie, leaving it unzipped as she took off out the door before the night could end. “_How do I get there? I don’t know… But I want to try!” _

* * *

Standing tall atop the arch bridge, the scent of hard rubber reached through Moca’s nostrils. Her arms perched on the steel railing, fresh sunlight against her shoulders was a new feeling itself. Warm and soothing, the star’s rays on her open skin amidst the cold of night. Dawn skies took form above. But her eyes were glued to one thing only: the last text she sent, [Ran, come to the park. It’s time to meet the new me.]

Soft footsteps approached through sand and rubber mulch, then turned to stomps as Ran climbed the structure’s stairs. Half awake in her leather jacket and turtleneck, same as always. Her face was one of only mild shock, but Moca’s coy grin had other things to say about that. “Hey Ran~.”

“Aren't you cold?”

"Fufufu, when you're as hot as me, noth-" She bit her tongue and shook her head sharply. Old habits die hard, but now was the worst possible time. Come on, Moca, get serious. "I mean, it's okay. This is what I've always wanted." Slowly, she stepped across the bridge and latched tight onto Ran's jacket. She hung her head in shame. "Moca really is a coward."

Ran didn't move. She must have been paralyzed by Moca's infinite beauty -- or the desolate honesty in her tone.

"I've thought a lot. Hard. The simple answer is I don't know who I am or what I want."

Ran placed her hand against Moca's cheek, thumb on her chin, and forced her head up. Forced her to look directly in the eyes. "But what’s your real answer?"

"The real answer is that… I'm no one. But even so, I want it all. I want to grow my hair out and cut it off again. I want to zap my face ‘til I never have to wake up with whiskers. I want to wear whatever the hell I feel like no matter how much skin I show. I want you to look at me and think I'm the hottest girl you know, that I'm someone you can love with all that passion in your heart. But it's more than that. I don't just want to be your girlfriend, your adorable Miss Moca. I want you to be my darling Ranran. Even if I'm no one, I want it all."

Ran stood speechless under the crisp morning sun, her eyes still watching carefully.

“I wanna be the one you think of whenever the word 'love' passes through your ears. I wanna elope with you and travel the world. I wanna ascend with you and travel the stars. I wanna go everywhere with you, and I want you to see how pretty I am on the summit of Fuji and the base of Niagara. I wanna feel like we’re floating through the cosmos and you can see me covered in starlight.” Moca dashed to the other side of the bridge and stared at the sky. The dawn’s light overwhelmed her, but through it, she turned back to Ran, extending her palm in anticipation. “And I want to see your absolute beauty too, from here to the end of the universe. That is, if you’ll have me.”

Ran’s sleepless face was illegible under the shining sky. Part of it seemed annoyed -- like ‘Moca, it’s too early for this shit’ -- but there was a sentiment of yearning, too. She stepped forward, cautiously, her lips quivering. “Can you promise we won’t hurt each other anymore?”

Moca shook her head. “No way in hell. But it will all be worth it, right?”

Ran’s hand reached out, hesitating. She was nervous, of course. But Moca flashed the widest, most sincere smile she could muster. In an instant, their hands locked together and their hearts beat as one. For two girls in search of a future together -- diverging, yet converging once more -- nothing else mattered in this world right now.

Hand-in-hand, they jumped off from the jungle gym’s tower and rushed toward the park's open pasture. Giggling with glee and bliss through a grassy meadow of love and pain. Moca tripped and stumbled through the grass pulling Ran down with her. But Ran seemed willing to join -- enthusiastic, even. Ran held herself above Moca's chest, their eyes locked together. They smiled, laughed, cried. Ran's body and face dipped down, their lips joined. Ran's weight atop her stomach was a bit cramping, but more than anything, it was comforting.

Ran rolled aside, fingers still linked. Her nose dug into Moca’s cheek, tired breaths broke across her neck like waves on the seashore. Then a kiss, delicate with vigor. Moca’s heartbeat was in full throttle -- this one-of-a-kind feeling could only mean their bond had been reforged. Reforged? No, it was a new kind of bond. It didn’t exist anywhere else, her own little slice of the universe for the picking.

Moca tugged on her beloved’s fingers, thumb rubbing her palm. Closer, she insisted. They had all the time in the world to move forward at their own pace, so why not take it nice and easy? Ran’s nose nuzzled against her cheek, grip tightened. With love and pride.

As the morning sky guided them into a new day together, a memory flashed through her mind. Two boys lay in the field just like this, sharing a tender kiss, a warm moment beneath the dusk sky. Their bodies changed, their personalities grew, time marched forward and their paths split apart. But their hands joined together as one across the endless chasm, their own divergent journeys would be forever connected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there! i got lots of closing things i wanna say but thanks for reading!
> 
> first and foremost, HUGE special thank you to RunaLiore for all the help she gave me on this fic, from revisions to brainstorming and bouncing ideas off of. i’m currently pretty satisfied with how things turned out and i owe a lot of that to her feedback.
> 
> this chapter was very fun to write. always a great time writing sayo and tsugu, and crafting something of a backstory for Ms. Aoba was honestly a blast. not to mention all the emotion going through moca’s gay little heart. in general i’ve loved writing this fic and honestly gained a newfound love for the pairing. also, apparently i was right on the money with the direction moca's canon character arc was going, too?
> 
> trans!ran seems to be a fairly common headcanon, but there’s definitely not as much trans!moca. if i recall, those two together were my first trans headcanon back when i first got into bandori (even before sayo). i think the first thing that got me feeling it was moca always saying aloud how cute she is, calling herself “moca-chan” and such. definitely can be read as a “trying to convince herself” kind of thing. and i guess ran just gave me that vibe, you know?
> 
> i think what i’m most glad about was being able to explore lots of ideas that my previous transdori fic didn’t touch upon -- presenting against gender norms, puberty dysphoria, and envy of other trans people among other things. hopefully my next one will offer some new and interesting stuff as well! i’m kinda impressed with myself getting near weekly chapter releases for this fic but i’m probably gonna force myself to take a small break now. look forward to future transdori works and more!
> 
> and speaking of, i wanna encourage anyone who wants to write more stuff like this to do so -- i always get excited when i see new trans bandori content!! special shoutouts to alice_dualswordlesbian and silversilky, they're doing good work out there. check out their stuff for more transdori.
> 
> twt: demonladys


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